April 14: May 11, 1996
In the end, the storm held off.
The guests all cleared,
then the sun disappeared.
It had waited long enough.
The rain, instead of dampening things,
invited us outside.
Sprinting, arms spread wide,
across the lawn in jagged rings.
The through-line: kinship, with abandon.
That day, it made sense
to be barefoot and drenched.
Too soon we’d be alone, and far-flung.